


I Trust You, Theodore James Kippen

by Im_trash_bye



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Airplanes, Airports, Alternate Universe - College/University, First Dates, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, M/M, delays suck man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 21:59:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19159807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_trash_bye/pseuds/Im_trash_bye
Summary: TJ and Cyrus meet in the airport while waiting for an eternally delayed flight. Eventually, they stop dancing around one another.





	I Trust You, Theodore James Kippen

**Author's Note:**

> For the incredible @tyrusflavoredtea on tumblr for making me that masterlist!

“Flight 283 out of Gate 32C has been delayed from its departure time of 4:50 to 6:00. I repeat, Flight 283 out of Gate 32C will now be departing at 6:00 pm.” The flight attendant’s voice was nearly inaudible over the quiet din of chatter throughout the gate. Cyrus rolled his eyes, sitting back in his chair and trying to get comfortable. He glanced up at the desk, watching yet another hopeful passenger be informed that there were no more flights out of DCA into ORD until 1:00 in the afternoon the next day.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, sir.”

“No, that’s alright. You don’t decide what flights go where and when,” the man assured her.

“Thank you for understanding, Mr. Tallman. The airline will provide you compensation for your time,” she promised.

“Oh? What kind of compensation?” he asked, leaning slightly over the desk with a nearly intimidatingly suggestive smile.

“Sir, I-”

“Please, call me John.”

“Mr. Tallman,” the attendant emphasized, stepping backward slightly. Cyrus sat up as he watched this happen, already standing up as John began to speak again.

“Oh come on, baby-” Cyrus was standing next to him in no time, beginning to open his mouth before he was beaten to the punch.

“Is there a problem here, sir?” A deep voice asked from the other side of Mr. Tallman.

“Yeah, there is, actually-”

“-Sir,” Cyrus cut in. “I recommend you stop right there. She’s clearly not interested, and I can’t blame her. Move on, and stop taking flights if you can’t keep it in your pants long enough to speak to a flight attendant.” Mr. Tallman opened his mouth to argue, but Deep Voice Guy was stepping in front of him, hand on his chest.

“Mr. Tallman. You either walk away or you face the No-Fly list,” he said, towering over the man. Who rolled his eyes and walked out of the gate, muttering something.

“I- would that even get him on the No-Fly list?” Cyrus muttered, mostly to himself.

“Well, no,” Deep Voice answered, turning to face him and holding out a hand to shake. “But he thinks it would. I’m TJ Kippen.”

“Cyrus Goodman.” They shook hands, smiling gently.

“Thank you guys, so much,” the flight attendant said.

“Oh, it was no problem,” Cyrus promised, hooking his thumb into the strap of his backpack.

“Not at all,” TJ agreed, smiling at her. “Do you need anything?”

“No, no, that was plenty.”

“Okay, then.” TJ turned to Cyrus. “Come sit with me?”

“I- um, I guess so.” Cyrus was weighing the possibilities of TJ’s status as a serial killer in his head, and not only could TJ tell, he also found it ridiculously endearing. 

“Come on, I promise not to harm you.” TJ smiled wide, gesturing to an open row of chairs.

“I don’t think that was the right way to assure someone of your trustworthiness.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” Cyrus chuckled, sitting down next to him. 

“What would you prefer, then?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well that’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair, Kippen.”

“Yeah, yeah. Who are you, my mother?”

“Who’s to say?”

“...You?” TJ asked.

“I respect that,” Cyrus conceded. “Anyway, is DC home, business, or pleasure?”

“School, actually. Georgetown. I stayed six extra weeks to take a history course.”

“Freshman?”

“Yeah, I am,” TJ laughed.

“Me too. Yale, though.”

“Then why the hell are you in DC? And going to Chicago?”

“Summer internship - Capitol Hill. And Chicago is home. Sort of. Chicago is home plus about four hours of driving.”

“Same. O’Hare is just the closest big airport to Shadyside.”

“Shadyside?” Cyrus asked, facing TJ.

“Yeah?”

“You’re lying, right?”

“No?” TJ promised, one eyebrow raised.

“You have to be lying. I’d know you if you lived in Shadyside.”

“Ah. You live there too?”

“No. I live there. You, on the other hand, are a liar.” TJ shook his head, reaching into his pocket for his wallet and pulling out his driver’s licence. He handed it to Cyrus with a smug grin. 

“Shadyside, Midwest. Born and raised,” he said, only for Cyrus to chuckle at the card. 

“Theodore James Kippen. Theodore. Theo Kippen,” Cyrus laughed. “Your name is Theodore.”

“Oh hush. You were named after a sculptor.”

“Not so. I was named after Cyrus the Great, Achaemenid-Persian King, and Cyrus McCormick, physicist. And who were you named after? Ted Bundy?” Cyrus deadpanned.

“Not funny! Theodore Roosevelt and James Joyce.”

“Oh. That’s… Not actually something I know how to make fun of.” 

“Lucky me.”

“I like your shirt,” Cyrus said after a moment, smiling softly at the pride pattern. 

“June’s almost over. I figured I should probably wear it a few more times before the hets get mad,” TJ joked, glancing down at Cyrus’s pride bracelet. “The same for you, I presume?”

“Nah. This bracelet never leaves my wrist; it’s been a part of me since my best friend made it for me.”

“And how long has that been?”

“Nearly six years. Since the day I came out to her.”

“You’ve got a good best friend, then,” TJ smiled.

“Two of them, actually.”

“Ah. Me too. Well, a best friend and a twin sister.”

“Good support system,” Cyrus approved. “Does your sister go too Georgetown, too?”

“No, UCLA. I haven’t seen her in far too long.”

“Reunion day tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” A smile came over his face as he spoke. “Marty, Amber and I haven’t seen one another since the holidays.”

“Marty?! That’s your best friend?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“He’s my best friend’s ex-boyfriend,” Cyrus gawked.

“So your best friend is… Buffy Driscoll! Then your bracelet maker is Andi Mack.”

“You are correct. And your twin sister is dating my best friend.”

“She is, yeah. And your other best friend dumped my best friend for… Someone else. Whoever she cheated on him with. I never got around to finding out who.”

“Buffy didn’t break up with Marty for someone else or cheat on him? She broke up with him because they were going off to schools on opposite sides of the country and she didn’t want them both to get hurt.”

“Marty said she…”

“She didn’t. Buffy’s not that kind of person.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

“I give you my word, Theo.”

“Is that gonna stick?”

“Are you gonna go after Buffy for cheating?”

“I asked the first question.”

“I asked the more important question,” Cyrus rebutted.

“Fine. I trust you.”

“Then I trust you, Theo.”

“Is that all it takes to buy your trust?” TJ crossed his arms.

“No, actually. My trust costs quite a lot more than that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… Your ID, the pride pattern on your shirt -  a gift from Marty when you two came out to one another. Your luggage tag, the watch you’re wearing - which just so happens to have been picked out by Andi while helping Amber shop for her brother. Your backpack, which you borrowed from Marty. Your shoes, decorated by Walker Brodsky, Andi’s ex boyfriend. Your varsity jacket - Grant High basketball. The music playing out of your earbuds - a playlist no doubt formed by Bowie Quinn, Andi’s dad. 

“Your pants - bought at the mall five miles out of town. Your hair, which fits Amber’s description of her brother. The tattoo on your wrist of your little sister’s name; Molly passed away a few years ago, and you spoke at her funeral. I only met her once when Amber brought her along to hang out at the park, but she looks just like you. And the polaroid in your phone case. Amber put it there right before you went separate ways.”

“You collected all that information in one conversation?” TJ asked.

“My trust isn’t easily handed out.”

“Question - do you hyper analyze everyone you meet?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Tell me about that lady,” he said, looking pointedly in the direction of a woman sitting alone in a row of chairs.

“She just got back from visiting her kid at Howard.”

“How can you tell?”

“...It says so on her sweatshirt.” TJ glanced up to find that yes, she was wearing a Howard sweatshirt.

“Touché.”

“You just chose a bad person. That was too easy.”

“Fine. That flight attendant back there. She’s in uniform, so you can’t derive clues from that,” TJ said, a smug grin on his face.”

“Bad choice, Theo. She’s in uniform, but I know her profession and I’ve had an entire conversation with her. She’s engaged, and she hasn’t seen her fiancé in a few weeks. This is her last flight before she gets to see him in Chicago. And before you ask- she’s wearing an engagement ring.”

“That’s mildly terrifying. How do you pick up so much information so quickly?”

“All four of my parents are psychiatrists. You pick up the skill after a while.”

“Ah. That’s… fascinating,” TJ said.

“Well that was convincing,” Cyrus deadpanned.

“No, I mean it! That’s genuinely cool, Cyrus.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s kind of my single defining character trait. Or rather, my single defining skill.”

“Oh, come on. You’re worth more than this one skill,” TJ insisted. \

“Like…?”

“Whatever’s in your bank account, I presume,” he teased.

“Theodore Kippen!”

“It was a joke, I promise,” TJ said, hands in the air as though pleading innocence.

“I know it was.” Cyrus smiled softly, a silent promise that he believed him.

“What are you majoring in?” TJ asked, opting to change the subject entirely.  Cyrus clearly noticed, raising an amused eyebrow.

“Doubling in Poli Sci and Philosophy. You?”

“Majoring History and a minor in German.”

“Are you fluent?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s actually my first language. We lived in Germany until Amber and I were 10.”

“Seriously?” Cyrus asked. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“My American accent is really good, I guess,” he responded, letting his natural German accent show.

“You should probably just be handed a German major,” Cyrus marveled.

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“You know, I think I actually prefer your natural accent to the American.”

“Is that a compliment?” TJ’s accent was thicker now - he was clearly starting to fall back into it after using a false one for so long.

“Of course it is!”

“Well then, I’m glad you heard it.” 

“So am I. Goodness, do you think the plane should be at the gate by now? It’s… 4:45, and we’re supposed to depart at 6:00, so we should be boarding very soon.” 

“Ja, das sollte es auch.”

“Pardon?”

“Hmm? Oh! Um, yes, it should be. Sorry, I wasn’t really thinking and-”

“Don’t apologize! It’s fine.”

“The plane should definitely be here,” TJ said, sidestepping the topic. He looked out the windows to where the plane should be.

“What do you bet it gets cancelled tonight?”

“Oh, definitely,” TJ agreed. “I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop since the first delay.”

“So have I. The attendants at the desk even look like they know it’s going to be cancelled.”

“I feel so bad for them.” TJ glanced to the desk, a sympathetic look on his face. “Wait, look-”

“Hmm?” Cyrus looked to the desk, where the flight attendants were reading something and one was reaching for the microphone as another typed frantically into a computer.

“Cancellation or delay?” TJ asked.

“I say cancelled.”

“I say another delay,” TJ countered.

“Passengers of Flight 283 out of Gate 32C, Flight 283 has been cancelled. All passengers have been placed on one of two flights tomorrow and will be emailed the details. Passengers have also been awarded miles to be used for United Airlines flights. Thank you for your patience and flexibility.”

The other passengers at the gate all grumbled slightly, sighing and exiting the gate. Many said something about getting dinner. TJ stood up, pulling out his phone to look for rooms at nearby hotels.

“I’m gonna run up to the desk really quick, hang on.” Cyrus was gone before TJ could ask. Naturally, he followed.

“What can I help you with?” 

“I was wondering what times the flights are tomorrow?” Cyrus asked, approaching the desk with a smile.

“Well, we’ve put all the passengers in coach on either the flight at noon or 1:00 pm. However, we can also put you and your boyfriend in first class at 4:00 pm instead of giving you complimentary miles,” a flight attendant said.

“I’ll definitely take that offer,” TJ said from behind him, ignoring the flight attendant’s assumption. Cyrus couldn’t help but notice that his American accent was back in full swing. 

“Me too, absolutely,” Cyrus agreed. “Do we owe anything extra?”

“No, no.” The attendant from earlier stepped forward, overhearing their conversation. “You helped me out earlier, so consider it a gift from the airline. I’ll cover any extra fees,” she promised.

“Oh- are you sure? I’d be happy to pay-” Cyrus started.

“No, no. There’s truly no need.”

“Thank you so much,” TJ said, smiling at her gratefully.

“Thank you!” Cyrus exclaimed, turning to exit the gate with TJ. “Did you get anywhere on hotel rooms?”

“There’s only one room open at any hotel nearby.”

“Ugh, I guess that means I’ll have to drive out urther and come back in the morning.”

“...I mean, you could,” TJ said. “But it’s got two queen beds, if you’d rather stay nearby and split the cost?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. I don’t particularly want to pay for a room on my own. Especially not at Chicago prices.”

“I don’t either, as long as you’re sure.”

“Eh, my twin sister really likes you,” TJ reasoned. “I’m gonna take the room.”

“Good, how much do I owe you?”

“Um… 60 dollars.”

Cyrus nodded, handing it to him with a smile. 

“Now, should we go get dinner?”

“Yes, definitely,” TJ said. “Just- not in the airport.”

“Right. No 16 dollar burgers, got it. You know, I think I have an idea. There’s a place I really like nearby. It’s not much, really, but… any dietary restrictions?”

“Do you count penicillin as a dietary restriction?”

“No, you idiot! I meant like lactose intolerance or veganism.”

“Ah. Well, none of those things.”

“Good. Do you have a car here?”

“No, I took a cab.”

“Okay, I’m driving then,” Cyrus said, pulling his keys out of his pocket and waving them at TJ. “Shall we?”

***

“Have you ever had kebab?” Cyrus asked, handing TJ his food.

“I lived in Berlin for ten years! Of course I’ve had kebab. Never in America, though.”

“Ah, well… I can’t promise it’ll live up to Berlin’s standards. However, I say we eat it while it’s warm.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then.” TJ feigned a toast with his kebab, biting into it in sync with Cyrus. “...Well. it’s no Berlin, but it’s good. And anyway, even if it was awful- I’d eat awful kebab a thousand times over if it means another date with you.”

“This is a date now. Theo?” 

“Only if you want it to be,” TJ flirted.

“I don’t think I’d mind that.”

“Yeah?” TJ’s grin was enough to change his mind if he’d been at all on the fence.

“Oh, absolutely.”

They finished their food quickly, talking aimlessly about their friends in Shadyside. Before he knew it, Cyrus was walking up to the front desk of their hotel with TJ at his side.

“Hi, we have a room, under Kippen,” he said.

“Yes, of course, here it is. I’ll just need ID and a card for incidentals?” Cyrus handed his credit card over while TJ set his driver’s license on the desk. “...And there we go. You’re all set in room 619. Elevators are around the corner to your left. Have a good evening!”

“You too, ma’am, thank you!” TJ said.

“Thank you!” Cyrus followed TJ to the elevators, racing him to push the button.

“You’re ridiculous,” TJ huffed, pouting as Cyrus beat him to it.

“I know,” Cyrus said. His face was still occupied by a smug grin as he stepped out of the elevator onto the 6th floor. He led TJ down the hall toward their room. Sliding the room key into the lock, TJ pushed the door open.

The room was full of white bedding and soft carpeting and the same air freshener employed in every hotel Cyrus had ever stayed in. He let TJ take his hand and pull him inside, let him simply stand and stare into Cyrus’s eyes, let him step forward and kiss him, let his back hit the door as he looped his arms around TJ’s neck.

“Thank you,” TJ breathed, still crowding Cyrus against the door.

“For what?”

“This. All of this. Letting me kiss you.” Cyrus simply shrugged, tugging TJ back toward him.

“I trust you, Theodore James Kippen.”

**Author's Note:**

> hummus. thoughts?


End file.
